


No 1 Party Anthem

by Sataara



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Crowley (Good Omens) Loves Queen (Band), Crowley overthinks, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23805814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sataara/pseuds/Sataara
Summary: Aziraphale invites Crowley to visit a gay club and Crowley overthinks everything.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	No 1 Party Anthem

**Author's Note:**

> So after listening to the entirety of the AM album by the Arctic Monkeys (for the 41682476th time) but mainly no 1 party anthem, this story started forming in my head. It happens during the 80s and I'm considering writing a sequel to give it a comforting ending but with everything that is going on who knows when inspiration is gonna hit me again. Either way english is not my native language so if you find any mistakes please tell me so I can fix it!

The music was loud enough that Crowley could feel his bones vibrating but really, nothing was new about that. Going to clubs, tempting a person or another to start a dumb fight or to do something petty, Crowley was used to that by now. What he wasn’t used to was coming to a club apparently owned by one of Aziraphale’s friend, someone he had never met until that night.

Crowley never felt out of his element when he was at a club, but now, Aziraphale was sitting next to him on one of the bar stools, still dressed as always but Crowley could see some additions that normally wouldn’t be there, an earring - a simple gold ring shining on his ear - , some light makeup that brought out his eyes and warmed his cheeks and the lack of his coat were the most obvious. There was something else different but Crowley couldn’t pinpoint what, to be fair, Aziraphale with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows was very distracting.

While the angel talked and talked about his friends and how he didn’t hate the music but would love listening to some Tchaikovsky too, Crowley couldn’t stop thinking about everything that brought them to that moment. A bit more than a decade before, Aziraphale had finally given him the holy water. It took a few years for things to go back to normal between them and Crowley had yet to stop thinking about the words exchanged that night and what they meant. Why did Aziraphale give him the holy water after everything he had said before? What did he actually mean when he told Crowley that he went too fast for him? He still had so many questions and no hope of getting answers anytime soon.

The first notes of Under Pressure started playing and Aziraphale looked at Crowley with eyes shining.

“This is that one group that you are always talking about, isn’t it, my dear? The name is Queen, right? Theodore is always talking about them and that funny chap Freddie, how they can’t make a bad song and that I should listen to more modern music but to tell you the truth every time he talks about them I can't help but think of you and your terrible driving!” His smile was so open, his eyes full of adoration, a few giggles escaping at the last remark and all of that aimed at Crowley was so much, that he was glad for his glasses, hiding all the emotion on his own eyes. Aziraphale kept going, oblivious to Crowley's inner screaming, gesturing and moving his hands the entire time he was talking. “Their music is surely not bad even though I don’t think I would personally listen to any of it on my own, I do so enjoy sharing the joy it brings with the people who love it.”

Crowley had a lump in his throat, he couldn’t say anything back and his lips were a thin line, holding back everything that he was sure would come spilling and ruining the normality between them so recently regained. And despite that, despite his brain overthinking and saying that it would go wrong, that he shouldn’t do it, in the insanity of that moment, with Aziraphale so open next to him, Crowley decided that maybe it was time to come clean. Tell Aziraphale everything, ask him those questions, confess the feelings he held close for thousands of years. It sounded easier than it actually was so he made a way out for himself, he decided that as soon as he heard the first notes of _that_ song he would tell Aziraphale everything, would hold his hand and bring them to slowly sway on the dance floor, ignorant of all others around them. He just needed to hear those notes, those words and he would finally make his move.

-

The night kept flowing as if Crowley wasn’t plagued by his own thoughts, focusing on whatever Aziraphale was telling him but still with an ear out to try and catch the signal that would finally make him shoot his shot.

As time passes, people come and go and neither angel nor demon move from the spot that they reside. Crowley just started noticing that he is so nervous that he hasn’t had a drop of alcohol since he made his decision. As he looks around he notices that the crowd is thinning, the song has not been played yet but there’s still music so he keeps the conversation flowing and his hopes up. He doesn’t know exactly what he is hoping for, if it’s for the song to play or not but hoping he is.

-

Aziraphale is flushed from the drinks that he had and Crowley notices that he did not lose his smile through the entire time that they’ve been talking, he prays that the song starts soon then, because he can’t deal with his anxiety any longer and it’s exactly when he gets lost on his thoughts for that one moment that he hears the quiet exclamation.

“Oh. It seems as if everyone is already going home.” Crowley looks around and notice how true the statement is, the dance floor is almost empty except for a few stragglers, some people tend to their friends that went too hard on the drinks while others are exchanging numbers and goodbyes.

He wants to say something then. He wants to ask Aziraphale to stay, just a moment longer, but nothing comes out from between his lips.

Aziraphale stares back at him and gives him a fond quiet smile.

“I better be going too, my dear, thank you for the company tonight, we’ll see each other soon…” and at that he paused, noticing - maybe for the first time that night - the tension between him and the demon. “To talk about the Arrangement of course, nothing else. Goodbye Crowley.”

And before Crowley could utter a single word the angel had his coat in hand and was out of the door. A beat went by and as if in a taunt, Crowley could hear the notes playing. With no one that mattered around him, he let the tears flow. Alone in a nightclub crying in the bar, what an excuse of a demon he was.

Over his head the song kept going, as if to remind him of the words he wished he had said.

_Oh, hurry back, hurry back_  
_Don't take it away from me_  
_Because you don't know what it means to me_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
